“I haven’t seen you in these parts,” the barkeep said, sidling over to where I sat. “Repute’s Bao.” He stated it exuberantly, as if say of his exploits were shared aside settlers around many a firing in Aeternum.
He waved to a unanimated tun upset us, and I returned his token with a nod. He filled a eyeglasses and slid it to me across the stained red wood of the bench in the vanguard continuing.
“As a betting fellow, I’d be delighted to wager a above-board bit of silver you’re in Ebonscale Reach for more than the carouse and sights,” he said, eyes glancing from the sword sheathed on my hip to the salaam slung across my back.